Dear readers, I am going to start this off with a letter dealing with spanking that I found on line many many years ago and that still turns me on in some peculiar way. I am going to give you the letter in its’ entirety, and then add my comments at the end. I believe the letter first appeared on a web site that was devoted to spanking and was identified only as Letter No. 10. Here it is, in its’ entirety.

Ralph’s Aunt

Dear Editor:

My parents were divorced when I was 12. Since my mother had a
drinking problem, I lived with my aunt until I was 17. She was a big
dominant woman whose husband had deserted her. She had a negative
attitude towards males and took it out on me.
She believed in many radical health treatments and especially that
the bowels should be moved daily and irrigated at least once a week,
more frequently if necessary. She also was a firm believer in spanking
as a method of “behavior modification,” so every week she gave me a
soapy cleansing enema, often combined with a very painful spanking
with her antique wooden hairbrush. I hated these treatments, which
only encouraged her to continue the practice.
Although she had two enema bags, she usually used a bulb type
enema syringe which was kept on top of the medicine cabinet, next to
the Vaseline and her special enema soap made from cocoa butter.
She served all kinds of health foods which I was required to eat,
or else. Most of them were vile tasting, but I ate them rather than
endure the “nutrient” enema she would give me which consisted of fruit
and vegetable juices retained for an hour. The “nutrient” enemas were
often followed by a harsh hairbrush spanking, inevitably followed by
a period of time in the corner displaying my discolored bottom,
giving me even more reason to try to finish all my health foods.
My aunt liked to impress the neighborhood women and her friends
at the office with her sternness. So she often gave me spankings and
enemas while people were visiting. I dreaded lying across her lap with
my bottom bared while strangers watched me being paddled and/or
irrigated. Her guests then had the opportunity to view me in the corner
of the living room or kitchen for up to an hour, still naked except for my
shirt. My nose had to be touching the wall, and my bottom had to me
sticking out, facing the room with my legs spread about a foot.
If I was being spanked and irrigated in the presence of neighbor
ladies or co workers, my Aunt practiced an especially humiliating finale
to her punishment. On returning from the corner, I was once again
required to drape myself over my Aunt’s knees. On her order, I had to
reach with both hands, grab hold of my bottom cheeks, and spread them
apart. I had to hold them apart, no matter what, until given permission
to release them. Then my Aunt, to the obvious approval of her friends,
would, as she put it, “get to the bottom of the problem.” I would receive
two dozen spanks with her hairbrush. The first 12, administered at
maximum strength, would be applied to my anus, or as my Aunt
referred to it, my “bulls eye,” causing unbelievable pain. It was the

final dozen however that were the real killers.
My Aunt would turn the hairbrush over to the bristle side, applying
the twelve smacks to my anus, causing me usually to scream at the top
of my lungs no matter who was there to see and hear it.. Her
audience clearly approved of her technique, and often chuckled and
giggled.
Sometimes I was even given a spanking or an enema in someone else’s
house. If a woman in the neighborhood complained about my behavior
my aunt would take me to the neighbor’s house to apologize, and then
while the woman looked on, my aunt would take off my pants and
underpants and spank me with her hairbrush. After an average of 50
hard spanks, she would grab my ear, drag me to the corner of the room,
pushing my nose against the wall and forcing me to push my bottom out
into the room. My legs had to be at least one foot apart. Then she and
the “offended” neighbor, along with anyone else who happened to be in
the house at the time, would comment about the state of my bottom, and
how it would look later with an enema syringe sticking out of it.
Since this was our neighborhood, there were often other children
present. These were kids that I saw every day, walked to school with,
and often was in the same class with. The humiliation of my aunt’s
treatment lasted much longer than the actual punishment, since I had
to survive the constant smirking looks of kids in the neighborhood and
fellow students.
Anyway, after my “corner time” it was back across her lap for a
punishment enema. My aunt would enlist the aid of the woman that I
had offended, by having her spread my bottom cheeks so that my aunt
could insert the bulb syringe. So, as if I had not been humiliated
enough, anyone present in the room had a good, long, view of my anus.
This action was repeated several times, as I was often filled 3 or 4 times
with the syringe in order to get the “proper amount of water” into my
bowels. When the last syringe had been emptied, my aunt would leave
the nozzle sticking out of my bottom to act as a sort of butt plug, so that I
would not expel the water prematurely. I was then made to spend 15
more minutes back in the corner, same position, exercising all my self
control trying to keep a grip on the nozzle and hold the water, while I
would have to again listen to anyone in the room make their comments
about the condition of my bottom. I knew from past experience that
failure to hold the water would mean repetition of the whole process,
spanking AND enema.
When given permission, I could leave the corner and walk slowly
to the bathroom, naked from the waist down. I was not allowed to close
the bathroom door, so everyone could hear every last sound of my
“evacuation”.

On returning from the bathroom, still naked, I had to go over my
Aunt’s lap for a final time, so that the women could determine if I had
cleaned myself properly after evacuating the enema. This meant, once
again, the offended neighbor would hold my bottom cheeks apart and
they both would examine and comment on the cleanliness of my anus.
These kinds of humiliations continued until I was 17 years old!
Once, while dining at her friend’s house, I couldn’t eat a strange
dish that was served. So my aunt borrowed our hostess’ enema bag and
right there on the spot, gave me a cleansing enema and a nutrient
enema, followed by a long spanking with a “spatula” from her friends’
kitchen, and corner time.
She was a mean woman. I wonder how she relieves her frustration
now that she doesn’t have my backside to spank or irrigate?

Ralph C., Pawtucket, R.I.
Compiled by NoCalMl “Dr. Spank”

One part of the letter that particularly aroused my attention was the following paragraph:

“Since this was our neighborhood, there were often other children
present. These were kids that I saw every day, walked to school with,
and often was in the same class with. The humiliation of my aunt’s
treatment lasted much longer than the actual punishment, since I had
to survive the constant smirking looks of kids in the neighborhood and
fellow students.”

I could just picture myself as a teen aged boy who underwent all this and then had to go to school with other boys and girls his age who knew all about this and would look at him and whisper to each other and point and giggle.

I can tell you what I would have wanted to do. As an adult, I would have wanted to take just one of those laughing teen-aged girls and brought her over to my house for similar treatment in front of a crowd of boys her own age including somr from her class in school. I would have made her stand facing the wall in the corner of the living room completely naked except for a t-shirt that didn’t begin to cover her bare behind. Then while all the boys laughed and giggled I would have taken her over my knees and given her a spanking she wouldn’t soon forget.

I would have made her reach back and spread her bare bottom cheeks while I spanked her with both sides of a stiff wire hair brush and made sure that all the boys thought her screams were just as funny as the witnesses to poor Ralph’s humiliation felt. Then I would have taken a bulb syringe and carefully inserted it into her anus and filled her with water, just as Ralph’s aunt did to him, and made her stand in the corner completely naked now except for the syringe sticking out of her bottom as a kind of butt plug until she couldn’t stand it any more and begged me to let her go to the toilet. And of course I would make her leave the bathroom door open and have all the boys crowd around to listen and laugh as she noisily evacuated herself. And after that I would have her back in the corner with her nose against the wall holding her bottom cheeks apart while all the boys looked on and commented and maybe shoved their fingers in her “rosebud” from time to time just to see her jump.

And you know what else I would do? I would marry her, turn her into an obedient and dutiful and always stylishly dressed wife, and have a crowd of our friends and neighbors and their children over to the house at least once a month for the rest of our lives, for a repetition of this episode, and ask her on every occasion if she still felt Ralph’s punishment was as funny as she did when she first heard about it!

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